


Batman and--  Oh, Never Mind

by Ruth_Devero



Category: Batman (Movies 1989-1997), due South
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-28
Updated: 2010-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruth_Devero/pseuds/Ruth_Devero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Chicago cop.  The Dark Knight.  A chance meeting and a little identity crisis.  Probably funnier if you read "Crossed Paths" first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batman and--  Oh, Never Mind

Hands. Hands, oh my dear Gotham, all over him, and a mouth hot as a thousand suns. Yes. He stretched and moaned in the other’s embrace, luxuriating in the softness of the bed beneath him and in the strength of the hands that caressed him. Yessss. Oh, _yesssss_.

“Ohhhh,” he moaned. “Oh. Yes. Robin. _Robin_ —”

The hands abruptly stopped, and the mouth went away.

“Hey, you doofus.”

He opened his eyes to see two hazel ones sparking fury from two inches away.

“It’s _Ray_ , you big mook. Ray _Vecchio_ , you dumb—”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you calling for the Boy Wonder just—”

He halted the scolding with a kiss against the soft mouth, his hands gentle on either side of Ray’s bristly head. Ray’s breathing grew ragged, and his hands went to Bruce’s thighs, stroking, stroking, stroking gently. Oh, _yesssss_.

Bruce rolled him over, straddling him, and gave himself up to the kiss, tongue exploring every inch of the hot mouth, only dimly aware of the Ray’s long fingers massaging his own hard buttocks. Oh, this was—was—

A soft fluttering, and beneath him Ray jumped.

“Bats,” Bruce told him, a little breathless.

“Yeah, well, it’s a cave; I guess you gotta have bats. They won’t—they won’t—”

“They just fly harmlessly in and out of the opening above us. They won’t bother us.”

“Good! That’s good. That’s a relief. See, this is my first cave experience, as it were, and I wasn’t real sure… ”

Ray’s mouth went to his, tender, sweet; and Bruce bent to the task of reassuring his companion with the caresses of mouth and hands on skin silken as the sheets beneath them.

What a marvelous idea it had been, to move an enormous round bed into a chamber of the Batcave—a bell-shaped chamber where stalagmites thrust up through the glassy floor to meet stalactites reaching down from the ceiling, and bats softly fluttered through the opening in the roof through which the cold moon shone directly on his revels below.

So many nights here, with his strong lover, the echoes of Robin’s sighs rippling against the walls of the chamber, magnifying, until they filled the chamber and disturbed the bats. The sounds of lovemaking and the sounds of the bats played off one another until ecstatic cries mingled with the squeaks of excited bats into a crescendo of passion that gave him release sweeter than he had ever known.

Ray’s husky sighs vibrated against Bruce’s throat. Bruce ran his tongue along the line of Ray’s jaw, sucked at the soft throat, mouthed one of those beautiful ears.

“Ah, god, this is so kinky,” Ray murmured. “I don’t even know your real name. I don’t even know what you really look like under that mask. I just know I’m glad I stepped out into the street when I did.”

Bruce grinned at him. “Lucky,” he whispered, kissing the side of Ray’s throat. “Lucky,” he said again, licking a nipple. “It was lucky for both of us.”

He ran his mouth down Ray’s belly, to the hot column of flesh, and rubbed his cheek against it. Cock. Lovely, hot, dark, huge cock. Ray writhed with pleasure as Bruce stroked it with his cheek.

Oh, yes, lucky that Ray stepped out into the street when he did. Bruce had been indulging himself and the purring machine in reckless speed, glorious speed on a dark night through empty streets, the city flashing by the Batmobile in a blur of light and color—and suddenly a startled face too close caused Bruce to slam on every brake in the vehicle.

His heart seemed to stop as he ran back down the empty street, to the crumpled heap in front of the 1972 Buick Riviera. The man lying in the street looked so frail. And so beautiful in the street light, that Bruce’s breath seemed to leave him. He ran his hands over the body: a gun, a badge, but no broken bones. Warmth and a firm, well-shaped body. But the man didn’t seem to be breathing.

A moment of CPR, and hazel eyes opened. “Doug?” the man said.

“You were unconscious,” Bruce told him.

“Yeah, I musta hit my head on the bumper of the Riv when I jumped out of the way of that— That was you, wasn’t it?”

The man struggled to sit up; Bruce cradled him. The man focused groggily on him. “Yeah—you’re that Batman. Gotham City cops told me about you. I’m Ray. Ray Vecchio, 27th Precinct, Chicago. You got a nice car. Geez, you look like Doug. Sure you don’t have a twin who’s a doctor in Chicago?”

Bruce smiled. “Not that I know of.”

“Those gorgeous brown eyes; that strong chin; that lower lip a guy could just attach himself to—” Ray seemed to catch himself, while Bruce felt his heartbeat go ragged. “You’re the spitting image of Doug,” Ray went on. “Except your muscles are bigger.”

“It’s the suit,” Bruce admitted. “When you’re going after the really tough bad guys, it helps to project an image of power and strength.”

“Well, it’s nice,” said Ray. His fingers drifted over the sculpted pectorals of the Batsuit, down the carved six-pack of abs, to the jutting codpiece. Bruce shivered, almost feeling the caress of those long fingers.

“Is _this_ just the suit, too?” Ray said with a grin, his hand cupping the codpiece.

“You could find out,” Bruce said in a raw voice.

And so it was speed again, glorious speed on a dark night through empty streets with a beautiful police detective on his lap, the city flashing by the Batmobile in a blur of light and color—and, “Oh, this is _great!_ ” Ray shouted, and “That’s not the stickshift,” when Bruce reached to downshift. But it certainly felt like the stickshift: hard and just the right size for his hand.

Speed, the city flashing past them; and Ray Vecchio laughing as the Batmobile raced faster, faster—

“Gee, I feel cheap,” Ray said, laughing, as the Batmobile flashed into the Batcave and purred to a halt. “I don’t even know who you really are, but I’m ready to jump right in bed with you. So cheap… ”

Bruce silenced him with a kiss. Oh, this was madness: a beautiful cop falling on a silent street, and the Dark Knight bringing him home as if he were a cheap pickup. But, oh, Ray’s mouth, sweet and knowing; oh, those shaky sighs against Bruce’s cheek; oh, Ray’s hands fumbling over the few inches of skin exposed by the Batsuit. Oh, madness and sweetness mixed; and suddenly the suit’s codpiece was threatening to crack.

“Ow! Owowow!” Ray yelped. “I’m starting a cramp in my leg; this isn’t the most comfortable place for a necking party.”

“Sorry,” said Bruce.

“Oh, your mouth,” Ray murmured, running his fingers over Bruce’s tender lips. “Oh, you kiss like Doug. Do you do _every_ thing like—”

And so to the Batchamber. “Kinky,” breathed Ray. “So kinky… ”

The first rays of moonlight crept across them as they sprawled on the bed, right across the Bat insignia embroidered on the top sheet, mouths joined and hands exploring.

Ray’s excitement was tangible under Bruce’s fingers as Bruce stripped him of the knock-off Armani suit and the silk shirt. His fingers lingered over the silk briefs. Not the stickshift, but darned close. And an ass like a peach. Oh, he’d been right to bring home this warm, responsive—

Ray gasped when he pulled off the headpiece that disguised Bruce’s real appearance. Bruce stopped him as he reached for the half-mask.

“It’s for your own protection,” he said huskily. “If you don’t see my face, you can’t be forced to betray me.”

“Whatever you say, Masked Man,” Ray murmured, nuzzling an ear.

“No, that’s the Lone Ranger,” said Bruce.

“Tell him to get his own date,” Ray laughed against Bruce’s throat.

Bruce laughed and surrendered to the sensation of Ray’s fingers in his short hair.

“Doug wears his hair that way, too,” Ray said.

“It’s popular this year.”

“Yeah, but on you and him, it looks good.”

Seconds later, Ray’s fingers were finding the clasps and catches in the Batsuit, and stripping Bruce faster than Robin ever had.

“Oh, you look like Doug,” Ray murmured. “Geez, you have just the right amount of hair on your chest; and your legs are so strong.”

He groaned as Bruce slid off his briefs with a practised flourish and mouthed Ray’s penis. “Oh, Doug, oh, my god, Doug—”

“It’s _Batman_ ,” Bruce snarled.

In the moonlight he could see the blush spread across Ray’s face. “Sorry. I wasn’t really thinking about him; it’s just habit. You made me lose myself, there. Though you—”

“Just shut up about Doug,” Bruce murmured, bending to silence Ray’s mouth with a kiss.

And then they both were naked on the silk-sheeted bed, moonlight caressing them as they caressed each other. Ray’s hands touched Bruce as if they knew him, oh my dear Gotham, all over him, and Bruce began to lose control.

And so he’d cried out the wrong name.

Now Bruce grinned at Ray grinning back; and he dipped his head to wash Ray’s penis with his tongue, revelling in the groans that sent the bats above them rustling through the darkness.

The moonlight washed them. The night melted into sensation: hands sliding up Bruce’s back as Ray kissed each inch of Bruce’s spine; nipple hard in Bruce’s mouth; velvet skin warm with musk; sighs that were half whimpers and half groans; hard cock branding the insides of Bruce’s thighs as Ray slowly thrust between them. Ray’s face, dewy with sweat as they paused on the brink of completion. Oh, hazel eyes that outgleamed the moon! Bruce watched Ray’s fingers caress his lightly-muscled arms, trace his flat stomach, grip his narrow hips.

“Oh, god, you’ve got legs like tree trunks,” Ray murmured. “And a cock that’s even—” His mouth closed on Bruce’s cock, and Bruce felt himself melting into the ecstasy of that slightly rough tongue caressing every inch of his cock.

“Oh, _yes_ , oh, oh, _yes_ , Robin, _yes_ , oh Robin—”

The pinch brought him to himself again—and stopped the runaway orgasm that was building in his groin. “Sorry!” he gasped.

“Yeah, well, you want to fantasize about the Boy Wonder, that’s one thing, but—”

Bruce sat up and bent to kiss the complaining mouth. “Doug,” he reminded.

“Point taken. Habits die hard.” Ray’s hand went up to smooth Bruce’s cheek. “My god,” he said, face soft with passion. “This is one of the most amazing nights of my life, and we haven’t even finished yet.”

Bruce turned to kiss Ray’s palm, then kissed the soft mouth, pressing Ray onto the bed. Ray’s cock felt like hot steel against Bruce’s belly.

“You want on top?” Ray breathed. “Oh, god, I hope you want on top. Please, oh, please, just take me; I want to feel you take me.”

“If that’s what you want,” Bruce groaned.

“Oh, it’s what I want.” Ray’s hips thrust gently against Bruce’s belly. “Oh, tonight it’s just exactly what I want.”

And it was what Batman wanted. Bruce often enjoyed being on the bottom, reveling in a lover’s hard thrusts; but tonight he was Batman, and Batman enjoyed being on top.

“You got protection?” Ray said, shivering as Bruce’s fingers brushed his thigh.

“Yes.”

“They don’t have that little bat printed all over them, do they?”

Bruce laughed. “No.”

He touched a button hidden just below the mattress, and a drawer slid open silently in the base of the bed.

“Convenient,” Ray said, reaching for a condom.

“Aw, geez, they match the mask,” he said a moment later, gazing down at Bruce’s black-clad penis. “Ohmigod, this is so kinky.”

Bruce pushed him gently back, mouth gentle on Ray’s for a moment, while Ray’s hard thighs gripped Bruce’s waist, his heels digging into Bruce’s thighs. Then Bruce looked down into the moon-washed face, enjoying the soft ecstasy there as he thrust jelly-slick fingers into the tight opening. Ray’s ragged sighs echoing around the chamber almost undid him.

Ray’s legs spreading wide, wide— And then Bruce had entered him, in one smooth movement, the hot flesh welcoming him and Ray’s cry waking echoes among the stirring bats.

Oh, the tightness and the heat; and Ray’s strong legs gripping him, heels bumping his back. Ray’s hands twisting the silk sheets as his solid thrusts met Bruce’s own and sounds poured from his mouth, words and moans that Bruce barely heard over the tumult of his own heart. And, above them, the bats rustling and swooping, disturbed by two sets of groans and cries echoing and re-echoing as hot cock slid against a sweat-slickened belly and hardness thrust again and again into the melting heat of a pliant body.

His cries rang the moonlit chamber, mingling with the squeaking of the bats. “Oh, Ray, Ray, Ray—my god, Ray, Ray, _Ray_ —”

The explosion melted him.

And, an instant later the chamber filled with Ray’s raw cry as he arched and pearly wetness exploded from him.

Bruce eased himself from Ray’s body and sank down beside him.

“Oh,” Ray was murmuring, “oh god, oh Batman, my god, oh… ”

Bruce drew him near, listening to Ray’s gulping breaths and feeling his own heart begin to slow. “Ray,” he could only murmur as the bats began to quiet above them. “Ray, oh Ray… ”

It was near dawn when he took Ray back to his car. Gotham City was beginning to stir, rousing itself for another day.

Ray kissed him. “Thanks,” he said, “and if you’re ever in Chicago… ”

“I’ll call you,” said Bruce. “We can go out crime-fighting together in the Raymobile.”

“Naw, I do that already with a Mountie,” said Ray. “But we can go out _necking_ in the Raymobile. More comfortable than _your_ car.”

Bruce watched him start the car and drive off, before driving off in the other direction. Inside he was purring as sweetly as the Batmobile’s powerful engine. One good night. That had been one really good night. Maybe he _could_ swoop up to Chicago some time—

——

Hands. Hands, oh my dear Gotham, all over him, and a mouth hot as a thousand suns. Yes. He stretched and moaned in the other’s embrace, luxuriating in the softness of the bed beneath him and in the strength of the hands that caressed him. Yessss. Oh, _yesssss_.

“Ohhhh,” he moaned. “Oh. Yes. Ray. _Ray_ —”

The hands abruptly stopped, and the mouth went away. Dread sank in his belly like a stone.

“ _What_ did you say?” asked Robin.

**Author's Note:**

> It's silly, it's purple-prosed, and it was written to amuse a friend. After all, a guy who's sleeping with Doug Ross should maybe meet his doppel-ganger in Gotham, right? By the time of this story, things seem to have progressed: Ray is a lot more comfortable—physically and mentally—with gay sex.
> 
> By Batman, I mean the movie with George Clooney in it, of course; I've not read the comic book. So much of the movie is larger than life, and I tried to mimic that tone in the story; it seemed to me that Batman would have a Gothic sensibility—and a really kinky bed.
> 
> I couldn't resist using the "meet cute" used in the _due South_ episode "You Must Remember This", where Ray is nearly run down by Suzanne Chapin. She also administers CPR, and Ray falls madly in love with her. Here it just leads to a little PWP.
> 
> Like I said, silly. Hope you enjoy it!


End file.
